The Tasteful Mystery
by Felice09
Summary: So called because I attempted to make a Hogwarts Orgiastic cult eloquently delicate. The Slytherin chapter is up. Draco woke up and he can't remember last night, so he's just pretending he knows he got laid. Slytherin sexcapades ensue.
1. Rumours by Fleetwood Mac

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, that sly JK Rowling does, and through her unsurpassable skills in legimency she wrote down their story. Now I'm just tweaking it a bit.**

**AN: This started as a story for my dear friend Amie, but as I am an attention hog(warts) I decided to put it up for the general public, so I may get reviews and fans. My lifesblood. I will continue it, based on the general reaction I've recieved of it so far. Draco Malfoy is for whom I hold a candle, if you haven't already guessed, and I will orchestrate some pairings eventually. Review and submit your favourites. **

'v'

The clamour of the Great Hall was intensified at breakfast on this particular morning as the rumour mill was set aflame by recent events of a most scandalous nature.

"It's true, Hugh Davies in the second year saw it, honest to Hog!"

"Yeah, but Hugh Davies just came out of Hufflepuff shared charms though."

"So?"

"So, Eugene Karlowski's wake up charm soldered his eyes together. He could only see from one eye, it was all crusted up. There's no way he could be telling the truth, he couldn't see from those eyes."

"He copped an eyeful if he did see it, that's for sure."

"But it's true; he's convinced that it's true!"

Over on the Gryffindor table the Golden Trio were deep in conversation.

"It's the side of Hogwarts you'd never think to see, is it?" Hermione mused.

"It's the side you'd bloody well never see. Let alone think to!" Ron grumbled.

"Well, it's not like it was in public, was it?"

"Public enough! That Davies squirt saw more than what was publicly acceptable. That Slytherin git just can't keep it in his pants!"

Harry choked on his mouthful of cereal and whilst spluttering, he was pondering the situation. As you do.

Malfoy had proven yet again that Slytherin's were different people, and maybe a different species. Hugh Davies was a second year Ravenclaw who got lost after attending a botched charms class, got caught afoul of the switching staircases and ended up wandering around the dungeons with a coating of sleep over his eyes. Walking around the cold corridors performing healing charms on his eyes, Davies opened them right in the middle of some Slytherin sexual orgy. He'd been telling anyone and everyone in that over excitable second year manner that he'd seen Malfoy (the most recognisable Slytherin thanks to his peculiar shade of silvery blond hair) and a group of other Slytherin boys and girls bereft of most of their clothes engaged in a very intimate affair indeed. It was a memorable night for Davies, and by morning the whole school seemed to be buzzing with the news.

"I mean, how would a slimy git like Malfoy even get enough people together, in a room, who can stand him enough to have sex with him? What's the appeal, you know?" Ron muttered conspiratorially to Hermione. Harry judged by his expression that Ron set up this question just to have Hermione vehemently agree with him, to boost his ego and protect the tiny bit of him that was feeling jealous of Draco.

"Well," Hermione responded. "He's not actually all that bad looking, if you consider it from a different perspective."

Ron's jaw was hanging agape.

"Sure, he's a little skinny," she continued. "But he's got quite handsome features, almost feminine. And a lot of girls gossip, of course they do, and he's been with loads of people before. He's a bit of a sex addict apparently, or so the rumours say. And Parvati's sister Pamda knows a couple of Ravenclaw girls and boys who say they've been with him in some way or another. An underground orgy doesn't seem all that unlikely, all things considered."

Ron started spluttering. "But – Hermione! It's Malfoy! No way! And how have I never heard any of this before, am I that out of the loop?"

She put her spoon to her lips as she considered her words. It didn't escape Harry's notice that Ron's hand twitched as his eyes followed the path of the spoon. Harry smirked.

"Well Ron," Hermione began tentatively. "I'm not sure how to say this, but people really just tend to not tell you these things."

"What? Why not?"

"Well, you tend to take it badly."

"Badly? I'm not taking this badly. How am I taking this badly?"

She rolled her eyes and put her cutlery neatly down beside her plate. She grinned at him then put on a very poor impersonation that Harry discerned as Ron.

"Oh, er, yuck, Malfoy's gay? As in he likes guys? As in sex with guys? I think I'm going to throw up. Er… oh Merlin that's not right – Are you so close minded about everything Ron?"

"Well, it's not right. It's not right, here, tell her Harry."

Harry looked sheepishly up from his cereal.

"What are we talking about?"

"It's not right, Malfoy's seedy business."

"Are we talking about Malfoy having sex or Malfoy being bi?"

"Both."

"Well, I think either way it's none of our business, Malfoy's sex life. I don't think it's wrong. He can do what he likes, it's his life." Harry's words earned an appreciative smile from Hermione. Ron forked his sausage with a frustrated jab.

"I still don't like it." He grumbled.

"You don't have to like it Ron." Hermione chided. "It's not like he's coming onto you."

The bickering couple was interrupted by the sudden silence that descended on the hall. The gossip was hushed as the very object of gossip entered the hall for breakfast. Several students blushed and looked away, the rest just stared as Malfoy, his constant guard Crabbe and Goyle, and his two very pleased looking friends, Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini, strode through the main archway. A sly grin spread across Malfoy's face as he realised that he was the object of attention and desire for nearly the whole school.

He whispered something into Zabini's ear and a similar grin lit his features. Malfoy threw a careless arm around Parkinson's shoulder and they strutted across the hall over to the Slytherin table.

Hundreds of curious eyes followed their path. A boy at the end of the Ravenclaw table flushed when he met Malfoy's gaze and looked away. He nearly jumped out of his seat as Malfoy trailed his fingers playfully across the Ravenclaw's back as he walked past him to his seat at the Slytherin table. Parkinson's squeal of a giggle broke the silence as a large group of upper class men from the Slytherin table joined in, laughing raucously at the shying Ravenclaw boy's reaction. They reached out to Malfoy and with many claps on the back and dubious handshakes pulled him down into his seat at the centre of the group with Parkinson and Zabini staying glued to his side.

The conversation in the hall bubbled back up again as the students turned back to their friends and instead of staring, threw covert glances over their shoulders as they discussed the Slytherin table's sexual ethics.

"Blimey," Ron croaked. "So pretty much all of Slytherin was at this party then?"

"You know, I've heard of sexual parties being held in boarding communities," Hermione was thinking aloud again. "Usually they are silent invitation sort of things where you have to reach a certain level of notoriety or sexual prestige before you are given the details for the secret meeting place."

"How did you find this out then?" Harry asked Hermione with a coy smile.

"I suppose you read it in a book, did you?" Ron bitingly queried.

"As a matter of fact, I did." Hermione snapped back. "Not that it's any of your business."

"No, of course it's not." Ron replied, rolling his eyes. "You could be reading smutty novels hidden in your Arithmancy books for all I know. Am I not allowed to ask where all this newfound sexual knowledge of yours is coming from?"

The edges of Hermione's mouth twitched up into a minute smile for a second, then her features rearranged into the more acceptable expression of friendly reproach.

"You are taking this badly Ron, why did I know you would?"

Harry rolled his eyes. The hidden intonations of this sentence. It was hard being the third wheel of a 'secret' relationship, in the sense that the coded conversations between Ron and Hermione were becoming less amusing and more arduous. They both liked each other, it was plain enough for Harry to see. But they continued to skirt around the facts and all the subtle flirting they did became irritating for Harry to watch. He didn't want to be the middle man. Instead, the couple just continued their playful arguing, as they did now.

"Well, I have a right to know how my friend gets about, who tells her these things which a good girl like yourself ought not know. I mean c'mon Hermione, sexy parties?!"

Harry laughed. Ron's belligerent expression was, quite frankly, ridiculous, and the tension that built during his rant broke. Torrents of laughter poured fourth from Hermione. Still giggling, she pat Ron on the shoulder.

"Oh, you are so funny Ron." She said in her best condescending voice. "I have to go. I have Arithmancy next and I need to find one of my romance novels to hide between the pages of my textbook." She scoffed as she swept her morning newspaper into her school bag. "See you guys in potions. Bye."

"Now hang on –"Ron tried to tug onto the sleeve of Hermione's robe and she teasingly slapped his hand away.

"I'll be late! Just because you have a free." Hermione poked her tongue out at Ron and he laughed and waved her off.

Still smiling, Ron turned to Harry. He saw Harry's knowing expression and narrowed his eyes.

"What's that look for?"

"Nothing," Harry replied with an impish smile. "It's just funny, that's all."

"What is?"

"Well, all it took was one crazy Hogwarts orgy to perk you two up. Weren't you two, ah, ignoring each other yesterday?"

Ron's brow furrowed and the set of his mouth hardened with embarrassment.

"How'd the cold shoulder technique work, did she warm up to you that fast?" Ribbed the grinning golden-boy.

"Shut up."

Harry laughed. It was true he was feeling bitter about their relationship, especially as it made painfully prominent how alone Harry was now. He'd been giving Ron a lot of trouble because of it.

"She looked almost excited to be fighting with you." He nudged Ron with his elbow.

"Shut it!"

"Do you think they'll send her an invite to the next one?"

"You are such a berk, do you know that?" Ron snapped. "Don't talk about her like that, mate."

"It's only a joke Ron, she would have laughed." Harry sulked.

Ron shovelled his scrambled egg onto his toast. As he cut a bit off and forked it into his mouth he seemed to be contemplating Harry's words.

"You think there'll be another one then?"

Two hands suddenly clapped down on Ron's shoulders. A frame of the lanky freckled arms of Fred and George formed around Ron's face.

"Hello little brother." Fred said.

"Are you talking about that orgy?" queried George.

"What? No I wasn't," Ron protested in a squeaky voice, dropping most of his egg off his fork in surprise.

"Aw, little Ronnikins is angling for an invite, is he?" George teased.

"Methinks he's far too young and naïve to be thinking of that saucy business." Fred nodded.

They both stepped over the bench and sat down on either side of Ron. They smiled identical smiles when Ron tried to get up and walk away and pulled him back down to the seat, their hands still clamped firmly onto his shoulders.

"Naughty, naughty Ron." They said in unison.

"Look, I never said I was thinking about … that. Or talking about it. Geez, everyone's giving me a hard time this morning. Just lay off would you?" Ron replied defensively. He got rather flustered talking about sexual things in ordinary circumstances. Fred and George were practically having a field day with an orgy in the news.

"Poor choice of words Ron." They grinned at each other.

Harry laughed at this, drawing the twin's attention on him.

"Wotcher Harry," Fred and George casually acknowledged the Boy Who Lived.

"Hey guys," He replied with an air of nonchalance.

Ron was fuming silently, deciding he can't win, as his brothers continued to tease him. A sudden thought occurred to Harry.

"Hey Fred, George. Has anything of this sort ever happened at Hogwarts before or is it just the Slytherins being Slytherins?"

Fred answered quickly "No" at the same time his brother answered "Yes".

"What?" George looked to his brother.

"Uh, it hasn't happened, has it?"

"Yeah, that time in Second year, remember? The oldest Fawcett girl walked in on it. She was never the same." George reminisced with a rueful grin.

"Oh, right. I forgot about that." Fred nodded hurriedly.

Harry watched their dialogue with suspicious eyes.

"And what happened that year, was it just Slytherins?" he asked.

"Yeah, it –"Fred began.

"No, it wasn't –"George replied, speaking over his brothers words. Again he looked confused.

Harry frowned.

"No, it wasn't." George continued, looking suspiciously at his brother. "I heard rumours that people from other houses were in on it too, and even some Gryffindors. It was a bit of a laugh because there was this really skanky sixth year girl who had a bit of a reputation and she left the school afterwards."

"Why?" Harry asked.

"I dunno. I guess she was too embarrassed to show her face afterwards or something like that." George shrugged.

"I heard she left because she got all in a snit because she wasn't invited to 'em." Seamus chimed in.

"Where did you hear this?" Fred asked him curiously.

"Me mam's sister's girl was attending at the time. It was real big news apparently."

"You chimer, Seamus." Ron smirked, finally rejoining the conversation.

"Well, look who's decided to join us, talking of chimers." Fred smirked at his younger brother.

"What?! It's interesting, ok." Ron rebutted defensively.

"So this isn't just a one time random orgy, is that what you're saying?" Harry pieced together the conversation. Ron recognised on his face the conspiracy expression that Harry frequented. Fred caught the look too and decided to cut Harry off.

"There isn't some massive scheme at hand here Harry, just a bunch of horny boarders releasing all their pent up energy. It could happen anywhere. Just because it's Hogwarts, doesn't mean there has to be some kind of fascinating link to the past. There's nothing all that magical about sex." He bluntly said.

George took it the opposite way. Adopting a girlish falsetto he shrugged suggestively up next to his brother. "Oh, the sex was simply magical!"

This brought laughs all round. Fred pretended to swoon and continued the joke, but Harry wasn't paying attention. Instead he was staring over at the Slytherin table, his conspiracy face back on. Ron noticed this and frowned to himself.

The cogs in Harry's mind were turning over this fresh piece of information, ever the detective.

Over on the Slytherin table, the tight group of upperclassmen laughed loudly and made many jeering sounds. Malfoy stood up from his seat and took a mock bow before blowing kisses to the group on the table. They all laughed and Malfoy held his arm out for both Parkinson and Zabini in turn as they got out of their chairs to join him. Linking arms, they turned to leave the hall. It seemed one of the boys called something out to Malfoy, for he turned to look over his shoulder and nodded to them. Zabini and Parkinson wrapped their arms around Malfoy's waist and together they walked up the hall, Malfoy's subtle wave dismissing the Goons to their supping. As they passed the shying Ravenclaw boy the trio sprung on him and ruffled his hair. Laughing jovially they turned and strode out the archway as the flustered boy nervously flattened his hair to the amusement of his peers.

In Harry's observations he didn't miss the many flickers of eye contact between the students, mostly upperclassmen who exchanged heavy glances, and the teachers who seemed to nod to one another. This seemed all too suspicious for Harry Potter, and he was in dire need of a mystery, as watching Ron and Hermione gallivant about was giving him no satisfaction these days.

Making his decision, Harry swept his paper into his bag and threw his cloak over his arm as he bid his goodbyes to the boys at the table. It was his free period, and he was going to spend it at the library. Although it was a very Hermione action Harry felt it pertinent to his investigation.

Hogwarts had some explaining to do.

'v'

**So there is chapter 1. I hope you enjoyed it and I expect REVIEWS! I'm sure I earnt at least a few, and with goodness to come folks! No pun intended. Tell me what you think, tell me what you liked, what you didn't like, what made you giggle, titter and bellylaugh if you will. And the mystery resumes NEXT CHAPTER!! **Oh, and did you get that my little page breaks are owls? Oh how I love them.


	2. Ok not Fleetwood Mac this time

**Ok, chapter two. You may have noticed that I'm not rushing into the sex scenes just yet. Now, as much as it would appeal to me, I am trying to build a tasteful background scenario so this is a story, not a bit of internet porn. Not yet anyway, heh heh heh. Those who know me personally can tell me off later. **

As the students slowly filed through into the narrow potions corridor, a certain blonde individual was quizzing another student.

"So, they've like, had sex, in these dungeons… ew!" Lavender Brown shuddered, her melodrama drawing a crowd all eager to join in any and all conversations that had to do with the illicit Hogwarts orgy.

"Who hasn't had sex in these dungeons?" Dean Thomas added with a suggestive smirk, raising his eyebrows at his friend, Seamus.

"Ha," he laughed. "I bet even Snape has had sex in these dungeons!"

Lavender and her little gaggle of girlfriends all squealed in protest as the boys were torn between revulsion and laughing heartily. On the negative side, such cries could be heard as;

"Er, yuck!"

"I've just eaten, mate!"

"Don't put me off like that!"

Etcetera. However, those Gryffindors with a sense of humour laughed and added quips of their own.

"Yeah, with himself maybe."

"Or with his cauldron!"

"That he's named Daisy."

"Daisy the cauldron!"

"And he – and he's bought a little wig for it!"

As the Gryffindor boys were bent double, laughing and wiping tears from their eyes, Harry stood sulking, leaning up against the wall of the corridor in a little mood of his own. Although he listened idly to the Gryffindor banter, he really wasn't interested. Harry had his conspiracy face on and so far it had led him nowhere. Everyone he questioned had been so focused on the sex and less on the mystery that Harry had a difficult time getting the appropriate answers. Even now all of the Gryffindors, the people Harry usually relied on to help him out in these situations were talking about Snape and his cauldron lover and not about the actual orgy that happened between the Slytherins in these very dungeons. Everywhere he asked people kept avoiding the real topic. The same thing had happened when Harry went to the library…

"Madam Pince, do you know anything about all the sex going on at Hogwarts recently, in the dungeons? Did it happen in your time?"

"In my time? I'm sorry young man, but I don't quite understand why you are asking me."

"Well, I thought that you might be able to tell me what happened in the last orgy. Who was involved, what came about, all those itty bitty details?"

"If you are implying I have prior knowledge then you are sorely mistaken young sir."

"Well, if you weren't there Miss, that's fine. But is there a book somewhere that could tell me about it. With photos maybe, to tell me what happened?"

"Get out of my library this instant you sick little boy! I took a vow of chastity, and so you can take your questions to a place with fewer moral values, thank you very much!"

"But –"

"For the love of Merlin, just get out!"

Unfortunately for Harry, he had to ask the one person in Hogwarts who wasn't "getting any" about the orgies, so that restricted his resources quite a bit. After that he decided on waiting until Hermione met him for Potions to get the information from the library, and canvassing the student body was his next point of call, although that went much like before. The students just thought it was a joke. The most information he had got was the information that George let slip this morning at breakfast. Harry had tried finding them again, but Fred would drag George in the other direction whenever he saw Harry coming. The Marauders Map wasn't so useful when you knew that wherever the person was, they wouldn't be talking to you.

He tried hanging out with Ron for the rest of his free, but Ron was practising his cheering charms to get out of extra homework with Flitwick, and the results of Harry hanging out with him could be quite dangerous. Harry could imagine Ron zapping him with a cheering charm just to get out of him venting about the Slytherins all lesson. Harry intended to spend time with Hagrid, after all his other plans fell through, but there was a sign spellotaped to the door of his hut notifying any visitors that Hagrid was working in the forest, acting as wet-nurse for the birthing of one of the baby thestrals. Harry threw a little tantrum at this point and ended giving up on being productive and just sat by the lake under a tree until the bell for period two rang.

From his post on the wall, Harry was the first to encounter Ron and Hermione who came racing down the damp corridor to the potions room with massive grins on their faces.

"Harry, mate! Thank Hog we're not late!" Ron said very quickly, and let one short bark of laughter slip his lips. Hermione giggled and hurried to cover her mouth with her hand. Whispering, she explained to Harry, her voice shaking with laughter.

"He rhymed!" She giggled again, almost uncontrollably.

"Cheering charms?" Harry queried knowingly.

"Got her with one right as she walked in the room to come and get me. Bloody tricky things they are." Ron mused.

"I'm very … hah hahah… mad at you … Ron!" Hermione whispered between giggles.

"It seems to have got her worse than it got you, mate." Harry noticed.

"It didn't get me; I just like watching her crack up like this."

Hermione was leaning on Ron's shoulder laughing into his chest. Harry raised a significant eyebrow at Ron, which he chose to ignore.

"Well, we got Snape now, what are we going to do with her?" Harry's surly mood made him practical.

"Did you know," Hermione smiled mischievously, as if she was a child telling a dirty joke. "That Draco Malfoy has had sex before? How weird is that? And I didn't read it in a book. Ron told me!"

Ron looked regretfully down into her face, full of childish wonder, and sighed.

"You're right. She can't go into Snape's class like this."

"You know the counter jinx, right?"

"Yeah, er, it's …"

"Tristia."

"Right, Tristia. I knew that."

"Do you want me to do it?"

Ron paused. "Yeah, alright."

Brandishing his wand, Harry tapped Hermione's head with it lightly and said the counter jinx. The blank look of happiness dimmed from Hermione's face.

"I can't believe you jinxed me Ron."

"It was an accident." He protested. "And anyway, it's fixed now. What a cute laugh you had."

"Oh, ha ha." Hermione replied sarcastically. Harry did not miss the small smile she wore as she turned to straighten her jumper. Ron leaned around her to see the rest of the Gryffindors.

"Oi, where's the Slytherins? It's just us here?"

Almost as if on key, as if by some bizarre coincidence that must surely have been orchestrated by some higher power with a pen, at this precise moment the Slytherins arrived for the class. They arrived through a tapestry passageway that none of the Gryffindors had been aware of, judging at how they jumped when the green cloaked students arrived.

"You know what Blaise, you are disgusting. Seriously. Don't ever speak to me. Ever." The group of Slytherins laughed at Malfoy's comment, it must have corresponded to some hidden tapestry joke that the Gryffindors weren't privy to. They just looked on with a certain curiosity that wasn't usually mingled with the loathing Gryffindors felt for their snaky counterparts.

"Oh look Draco. They're stunned into silence." Blaise Zabini smirked and leant on his friend's shoulder.

"An improvement if you ask me." He replied. Pansy Parkinson giggled sadistically. Lavender Brown scowled at the raven haired girl, and Parkinson immediately responded with a glare of her own so severe Lavender averted her gaze. This made Parkinson laugh all the more.

"I think they're scared of us." She smiled widely.

The Gryffindors took great measures to look affronted and gruff.

"As if." Ron muttered.

"More like revolted." Seamus growled.

"You want to be scared of my fist, Malfoy!" Dean called out.

Malfoy sent careless looks to all the would-be Gryffindor attackers. Then he turned back to his friends and deliberately ignored the Gryffindors.

"Anyway, yeah, so, they're dreaming, uh, Quidditch this afternoon, yes?"

The Slytherins relaxed and laughed some more. They continued their chit chat about anything but what Harry wanted to hear as they filed into the potions corridor behind the Golden Trio. The Gryffindors were mumbling about the nerve of the Slytherins and other such acceptable comments. Harry turned to Ron and Hermione who were watching the group of Slytherins with cautious eyes.

"That was convenient, Ron. Good timing, have you ever thought about being a seer?" Harry joked.

Hermione smiled weakly. "That would be a fine way to waste your life. Become a seer." She sneered.

"Where do they get off, huh?" Ron growled to Harry and Hermione.

"What?" Harry asked, he and Hermione exchanged curious looks.

"About what Ron?" Hermione asked him.

"Walking in here like they own the place." Ron grumbled.

The Slytherins overheard this, and Malfoy couldn't resist adding his own little jibe to the mix.

"Well, some people do own things Weasley, not that you would know."

"You want to try shutting your mouth, Malfoy. Unless you want those pretty teeth of yours on the floor." Ron snarled at him.

"I'm flattered Weasley, but you're really not my type." Malfoy replied, smirking, as his band of Slytherins positioned themselves around him. "I don't date homeless people." His cronies laughed as Ron flushed beet red.

"I have a home, alright!" Ron snapped. Harry stepped forward and coolly provided an insult for Ron.

"I was under the impression you didn't have a type, Malfoy. You're so desperate you can't afford to be picky. That explains why you've picked such first-rate characters for friends."

"You are in no position to insult my friends Potter. You really can't talk, with that Mudblood and the hobo by your side."

"Firstly, don't call them that, and secondly, you can go fuck yourself. Oh wait, you already have."

Malfoy sneered at Harry. His group of friends exchanged looks and turned a patronising gaze on Harry. It sort of said, oh how wrong you are, which was exactly the response Harry wanted if it would give him the information he was after.

"You don't know a thing, do you Potter?" Malfoy coolly replied. "You can be as childish as you want, it won't change the fact that you are just pissed off because you're alone."

Harry's face turned grim. "Oh, and what are you then?"

Malfoy blinked. "Pardon?" His manners were a matter of familial heritage, not choice.

"What are you to call me alone? Are these rumours true, or are they a load of crap, like everything else you say?"

"I haven't said anything, Potter. So these rumours you are referring to…"

Malfoy's sentence trailed off as he heard the clip clop of Professor Snape's black tailored shoes sounding along the cobblestones of the corridor.

"There will be no rumour mongering in my corridor, students. The only talk shall be of the potion we will be studying today on page 307 of your text books called Persephone's elixir, and even talk of that shall be little. Get in here, quickly. Ten points from Gryffindor, for such aimless loitering."

The Gryffindors all groaned in unison and filed into the room. They had learnt by now that confronting Snape about the unfairness of it all would lead to ten more points being removed from the red hourglass, and a grim little satisfied smile Snape would wear as he told the students that life wasn't fair. Harry felt like throwing something at the swooping old bat, preferably the blonde haired ferret standing next to him, successfully eliminating two incessantly irritating birds with one large misshapen stone, but Harry felt that might be counter productive to his current goal.

Drifting into the narrow doorway, Harry found himself in close proximity with said Slytherin who whispered to him through the corner of his mouth "Really Potter, gossip is so unattractive. It suits you well." Harry scowled and marched to his desk with Ron and Hermione beside one of the columns in the dungeon classroom and banged his head on the concrete balustrade. Hermione gave Harry a quizzical look and Ron sniggered, elbowing Harry to make him stop.

"You will find, Potter, that self inflicted brain damage has the opposite effect on improving your NEWT grades. I suggest you sit up and cease your activities." Snape intoned in his sarcastically nasal voice. The Slytherins chortled and some turned in their chairs to get a better look at Harry's brain damaging activities.

"Simmer down, simmer down." Snape waved a lazy hand then set to work writing the ingredients for Persephone's elixir on the blackboard at the front of the classroom.

Harry turned to his friends and in a subdued voice bemoaned to them a little.

"How that little creep made friends with anyone, I'll never know."

"Don't stress it Harry," Ron comforted his friend. "You said it yourself, his friends aren't worth anything as far as friends go. They're all a load of gits."

"Don't let him get you riled Harry, you're just rising to his bait." Hermione advised.

"Yeah, well, he started it." Harry grumbled.

"Thank you for standing up for us before Harry, by the way." Hermione tactfully changed the subject. "That was really brave of you."

"You didn't need to mate. I'd have got him back myself. But, you know, it's good you've got my back, so thanks, I guess." Ron shrugged in gratitude.

"You would have done the same for me. I'd do it for any of you." Harry humbly murmured.

"Isn't Snape a right git though? The snakes were gossiping too. It's not fair that he only takes points from us!" Ron scowled, unaware of the looming presence behind him.

"Life … Isn't … Fair, Weasley." Snape drawled, punctuating each pause by rapping Ron over the head with a rolled up potions text. "No gossiping in my class. Three points from Gryffindor. Lord knows you seem incapable of stopping yourself."

He strode to the front of the class as Ron's ears coloured red. Harry protectively sent angry glares to all the Slytherin gawkers who turned in their seats to witness Ron's embarrassment. His eyes landed on Malfoy, who flashed a wicked grin at the Golden Trio, his two accomplices Parkinson and Zabini adding their ocular firepower to the frey.

Harry narrowed his eyes at the Trio, but eventually looked away. To think that such people as Malfoy and his gang were involved in something as secret and intimate as an orgy in the dungeons was a concept that was beyond Harry.

He could hardly stand three minutes of Malfoy's company, admittantly Harry's opinion was coloured with bias. He and Malfoy had had a tricky relationship for years built up by constant bullying, the passive aggressive exchanges they shared, the continual sabotage they played on one another, that and the fact that Harry had been almost killed on numerous occasions by members of Malfoy's family. Harry could not comprehend the allure of such a boy. He didn't understand him.

Harry wondered, if not for one of many times, what it was like to be a fly on the wall of these Slytherins lives. He never understood their thinking. It always came down to this.

What in the world was it that Malfoy thought?

Harry grinned a little to himself. Until he became a master at legimency that was a question that would go unanswered. He thought that at least he had the second best thing. How better to spy on the Slytherins than with an invisibility cloak? Harry folded his arms on the table and lowered his head. His conspiracy face was back on.

What did Malfoy think, Harry would find out soon enough.

**So, yes. The next chapter will be Slytherin perspective to stir up a little dramatic irony. And I would like a review from you greedy people, stealing the story with your eyes, but not leaving so much as a kind word in return. I know your game, I've seen the traffic on this baby. Even if it's one letter, at least I know to be bothered with the thing. So, I'm off to write about Slytherin tapestry humour. Tarry ho!**


	3. Slytherin is to Gryffindor as blank

**Chapter 3! Following the Silver Trio this time, and it's somehow twice as long as the Harry chapter. It shows my love for the Malfoy I suppose. Review my hard work, if you will. And there is a direction to this peice, we will get to the orgy soon enough. There is a mystery afoot. For now, just go along for the ride. AND REVIEW! **

Draco, Pansy and Blaise's light hearted laughter faded behind them as they exited the great hall.

"Oh, I swear to God, that fourth year blue boy was practically shitting himself, Draco!" Pansy giggled delightedly.

Blaise mocked the boy's predicament. "And after he was just like, 'Crossing my legs like no one noticed, oh I'm so caz.' He's never going to wash that shoulder again, you realise."

"Well, it's not like it was my fault." Draco drawled, shrugging. "I just bumped into his shoulder … accidentally. If he got a boner because of that then really, he's the one to blame." His sly smile stretched across his face.

"You player Draco." Blaise ribbed. "You basically just said something akin to the 'If I had a Knut for every time I gave someone a boner' line."

"How often is that line said Blaise?" Draco asked.

"Well, I don't know. Shall I tally it up for you Drakie?"

Draco shuddered. "That incessant nickname."

"But Drakie," Pansy trilled sweetly. "There really isn't much else that Draco can be shortened into."

"Exactly, wouldn't you think Draco is short enough then?" He insisted.

Blaise exchanged a glance at Pansy and nodded to her. Leaning his elbow on Draco's shoulder, he said with a grin.

"You're right Pans; I would think Draco is short enough." Draco scowled at his tan friend. Blaise tugged a strand of Draco's platinum blonde hair and laughed winningly. Blaise's laugh was the sort of laugh that invited laughter. And lucky Blaise, this technique of his meant that people were always either laughing with him, or at you. Pansy snickered with Blaise and glomped herself onto Draco's other shoulder, poking his pale cheek with one of her manicured nails.

"Don't worry Drakie. I think it's cute how tiny you are!" She and Blaise shared a grin.

"Tiny!" They crowed together, bursting out into identical peals of laughter.

"My god Blaise, you're such a girl." Draco rolled his eyes. "Stop thinking about my pants."

"Your tiny pants." He grinned.

"Yeah, not what's in them though." Draco quipped, attempting to regain his reputation in front of his friends.

Choruses of "Ohhh" could be heard ringing from the walls all the way up the cavernous third staircase hall. After the silver trio straightened up from their laughing fit, they readjusted their satchels and walked more purposefully up the switching staircases.

"Did you get the Arithmancy homework done?" Draco asked.

"Yeah, I did three feet of parchment, it nearly killed me." Pansy sighed dramatically.

"Vector only asked for two!" Blaise's head shot up in surprise.

"No, it was three, I heard it straight from the mudblood's mouth." Pansy looked at him suspiciously.

"Shit! Hey, let me borrow yours. I can do it in class!" Blaise panicked.

"No!" Pansy exclaimed. "I was up til midnight last night finishing it, why didn't you ask me then?"

"Because I thought I had it finished midnight last night. C'mon Pans, five minutes I'll borrow it. It'll take me the whole lesson otherwise!"

"No. Do it yourself." She would not budge on this now. Pansy was incredibly stubborn once she'd made her decision. She walked into the classroom with her chin held high. Blaise grabbed her sleeve and hissed into her ear.

"At the back! Sit at the back!"

Blaise dragged Pansy to a row of chairs at the back. Malfoy trailed behind them nonchalantly, his hands in his pockets. He couldn't help but notice Granger's beady eyes following the trio as they took their seat at the back. She was painfully obvious as she sat, back straight as a rod in the seat closest to the front. Her squinted eyes paused on Draco's casual face. With a dismissive glance at her, he followed his bickering friends to their desk.

Blaise was sitting in the seat furthest from Pansy, which meant one seat away, so Draco assumed the seat in between them.

"Granger's fishing for trouble." Draco commented.

"Tell Blaise I'm not talking to him." Pansy smiled at Draco, and part of that smile landed on Blaise with a hint of viciousness.

"Why aren't you talking to him?" Draco smiled looking between them both.

"Because I feel like it." She smiled again.

Blaise gave a bitter laugh.

"Have fun with that." Draco smiled back.

Blaise tugged on Draco's sleeve. Draco turned around to address the sulking Blaise and was pulled down to his level, as Blaise had slunk down in his chair amidst his self initiated depression. Whispering in Draco's ear, Blaise asked.

"Can I copy your essay?"

Very loudly, Draco said. "No Blaise! Pansy would kill me!"

However, after sitting back casually in his seat at the start of the lesson, when he made sure Pansy was otherwise occupied shooting daggers at the Macmillan know-it-all, Draco slid the essay underneath Blaise's folder. Receiving a small smile of thanks, Draco then assumed his own shoulder of responsibility, taking notes on the various different translations of the symbol for water.

Draco was a misleadingly good student. The impression he gave of rebellious rule breaker belied his inner bookworm, Blaise often said. Draco had been reading his school textbooks well ahead of the syllabus, as when he spent his holidays and childhood alone in Malfoy manor there was little else to do that wouldn't disgrace the family name. Indeed it was almost his duty to receive top grades in every subject, and as Draco showed a certain predilection for amassing knowledge, those grades came easily to him. He was excelling in Potions, which was by far his best subject, but he showed an aptitude in all his other topics as well. This innate skill helped Draco pass all his exams, but it certainly made his lessons less interesting, as he had done all the work before.

"Now, the mathematical formulae for the elemental transfiguration of water can be represented like this – "Professor Vector tapped the blackboard with his wand and the complicated formulae etched itself upon the board. "But to understand its practical use in foretelling events one must understand that water elementals differ from it's brethren of air and fire due to it's …"

Draco sighed. He was tired. Very very tired. And he couldn't remember what he did last night. This whole orgy thing was news to him as he woke up that morning, but it must have been true, because there were scratches on his arms and back, and he didn't wake up in his bed, but instead on the couch in the common room. And when he awoke it was to a group of similarly tired sixth year students, all of whom alluded to Draco as being involved in some kind of orgy.

But he didn't remember ANY of it! Then when the little second year Hufflepuff boy started blabbing that he saw Draco having sex in the dungeons, and Pansy and Blaise were so excited for him, and the chaos of spreading gossip, Draco just didn't have the heart to tell them he didn't remember it, and played it up, so as to avoid the scorn of his peers.

Rubbing his tired eyes as he slumped across the desk, Draco groaned quietly. Things were so much simpler when he hadn't had sex, he thought to himself. But he must have had sex last night, or the school wouldn't be saying all these flattering things about him. He'd had girlfriends in the past, but he didn't really like any of them enough to want to have sex with them. They were all just too clingy. Draco didn't like clingy. Only Pansy and Blaise could get away with their touchy feely act; that is without being hexed into oblivion. Draco related a certain level of respect and friendship with being able to touch him. For everyone else, that was off limits. So why would he consent to having a group of random people he didn't respect touch him?

Oh, it didn't make sense. Draco was just about falling asleep on the desk.

"Mr Malfoy." Professor Vector called out.

Draco was still out of it. Lost in thought or sleep, whichever it was. Blaise poked him.

"Hey buddy, wake up."

Then Draco felt a sharp pinch on his right arm.

"Ow!" He sat up and glared at Pansy. She looked pointedly at the front of the room. The whole class had turned in their seats and was looking at him.

"Um, yes Professor?"

Vector raised an eyebrow and smiled slightly. "If my subject bores you Mr Malfoy, then you'd best be sleeping out of my class. Unless you feel you do not need to pay attention?"

Draco looked at the equation on the board. It was simple to him. But the stringent manners he was raised with prevented him from telling Vector where he could stick it.

"Uh, no Professor. I'm just a little tired."

"Not too tired to work, I hope. Tell me, how would one solve this equation with the primary outcome being that water is transferred into the blood?"

Draco sighed, and looked again to the equation on the board.

"Sir, you should substitute the amount of water needed for the transfusion to _a_, and then divide it by 3.7, which is the number needed to convert the measurement of water into blood, which is concentrated 3.7 times more than water, and then put that into the number of vowels in the incantation , which will give you _z_, the number of circles to be made with the wand. I think."

Vector blinked twice, dazzled, no doubt, by such an accurate answer being made by the student who was sleeping through the lesson. Vector also didn't expect such a precise answer, as he hadn't even gone through the formulae with the class yet, one of those tricky things teachers like to do with their classes.

"Well done. Yes, well. You may go back to sleep Mr Malfoy. Moving on."

Vector rambled on to the blackboard again. Several students laughed a little before going back to their notes. Draco sighed, he was doing a lot of that these days, and rubbed his eyes again. Whispering to his friends, he said.

"You didn't have to pinch me that hard, Pans."

"Well, if I didn't, you would have missed that wonderful opportunity to humiliate our sneaky teacher. You know, he hadn't even discussed the formulae with us yet? He was just yapping on about how water and fire are like brothers."

"You do look pretty tired, man." Blaise noted with concern, his voice getting higher as his sentence proceeded. "Do you want to take a nap? Like, a nano nap before Vector decides to razz you again?"

Draco smiled. "You and your nano naps, Blaise. How blasé." He waggled his eyebrows jokingly. It was their little inside joke, among the three of them. In first year, Professor Quirrell kept referring to Blaise as blasé in a very low and breathy voice, and Draco and Pansy were convinced it was because Quirrell had the hots for him. It really freaked Blaise out, which is why they now said it to him all the time.

"Ha ha ha." He sarcastically replied. Draco did notice, however, that his essay was back on his desk, and Blaise's three feet of parchment was perched suspiciously far away from Pansy. Draco wondered what he missed.

"Well, we know you didn't get much sleep last night." Pansy said with a wicked grin.

"Alright, that's enough. Goodnight, you two." Draco rolled his eyes, blocked Pansy's grinning face with his hand and repositioned himself with his head on the desk.

Pansy and Blaise shared a mini hi-five over Draco's head. Their whispered chanting of "Drakie got laid, Drakie got laid!" made Draco want to swat them. And he did, and a silent slapping tussle ensued, unacknowledged by the teacher, as he was still trying to avoid his advanced pupil's antics by way of making amends for the questioning debacle earlier.

"I think I will have that nano nap." Draco decided, as he smoothed his hair back into place from where Pansy had ruffled it. "You guys should pay attention though, you're hopeless at this stuff."

He received two more smacks about the head for that, and grinning to himself, he put his head back on the desk and stared at the clock. Five more minutes, he was thinking. Blaise was evidently thinking the same thing, as Draco heard him whisper, "Only five to go." Draco subtly started packing up his things, waiting for the bell to go.

After Vector announced the homework, several calculations using the formulae to transmutate water into the blood, Draco began to put his books in his bag to leave. Up the front of the class, Hermione Granger and the Patil twins were huddled in conversation, no doubt construing the recent development that Draco was tired. He rolled his eyes, overhearing snatches of their conversation, such as "That confirms it, right?" and "Well, if he was up all night…" and "How did he know the formulae, he was asleep!" How mundane.

"Hey, you know those notes Snape gave us on lacewings?" Blaise asked him in an absent minded manner.

"Yeah." Draco nodded.

"I think I left mine on our table in the common room last night, come with me to get them?"

"Why can't you go yourself?" Draco asked him irritably.

Blaise looked Draco straight in the eye and said, as seriously as one would be capable.

"I'm afraid of the muggers."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "You're the mugger, aren't you Blaise?"

Dragging Draco by the elbow, he said, one hand shielding his mouth, "Shuuut uuuuup, you're blowing my cover."

Draco laughed. He was lucky to have such crazy friends, he thought, because there would be no way he'd get away with laughing like this at the manor.

Calling over his shoulder, Draco reached behind him to grab Pansy's hand.

"Come on Pans, the killer is among us!"

Her eyes flashed at the prospect. Pansy was a fan of the murder mystery genre, and persuaded Draco to read some her novels. It became a sort of private game they had, to make up scenarios in which Detective Inspector Malfoy, and his sexy sidekick, Ms Parkinson ("Why am I the sidekick, I invented the game!?") solved the crime and saved the day.

"Ohhh," She giggled. "Who's the victim, Detective Inspector Malfoy?"

As the three walked out the Arithmancy classroom door, arms linked, they were treated to a dirty glare by the two Gryffindors, Granger and Patil, who were standing around Vector's desk, grilling the professor about their last essay. With a smirk, Draco nodded in Granger's direction, startling her somewhat.

"Who else but our favourite Mudblood?"

The three of them burst out into peals of raucous laughter. Granger turned a furious shade of red as she realised they were laughing at her. They could tell that as they continued down the corridor, holding pretend wands like guns and shouting "DUN DUN DUN!" (Mostly on Blaise's part) that Potions was going to be hilarious.

After much discussion on how the crime was committed (textbook to the head) and who the culprit was (so we can give them a medal) the trio reached the common room. They knew they wouldn't be late for Potions because there was a secret passageway that ran from the Slytherin common room to the corridor just outside the dungeon lab that they could wander down later.

"I swear they were right here." Blaise said, stroking his chin.

"You said our table, right?" Pansy called out from the common room pantry across the chamber.

"Well, I don't remember seeing them when I woke up." Draco mused, as he reclined on one of the green velvet couches, tossing a cushion in the air.

Pansy threw a hard boiled sweet at Draco, and he caught it as he was tossing the cushion. Proud of his seeker's reflexes he laughed.

"And the crowd goes wild! Haaaaaah!"

"God, I swear you Quidditch types are so full of yourselves." Pansy scowled.

"It was a great catch, Pans. That sweet could have possibly injured and or maimed me. I was performing a public service." Draco smirked at her and popped the sweet into his mouth.

"That's not the only service he performs!" Blaise looked up at them from where he was squatting down on the floor, trying to look under a polished ivory cabinet for his notes, and suggestively winked and licked his lips at his friends.

"Ewww, sick mind Blaise!" Draco chastised him.

"I didn't say anything about my mind, Drakie, Drakie, eggs and bakie! You're not snooping in there again are you?" Blaise looked at him accusingly.

"It was Occlumency, not Legimency Blaise. Besides, your head is like ground zero. I don't want to know what goes on in there."

Blaise laughed, shrugged, and went back to searching the common room for his notes. Across the room, Pansy stared at Draco for a while, as he ruffled his hair and went back to tossing his cushion in the air.

"Draco?" She said.

"Mmmm?"

"You're really smart, aren't you?"

Draco paused, surveying her with his cold grey eyes.

"Is this a trick question?"

"It's almost like, I never realised, but it's actually really obvious. It's like; I wouldn't expect you to be so super smart."

"Are you saying I look like an idiot, Pans? Because, really, that's not a compliment."

"No, I mean, you look smart enough, you know. But isn't Occlumency like, super advanced?"

Draco rolled around on the sofa. He grinned at her.

"Uh, er, like yeah."

Pansy waved her hand, gesturing subtly her acknowledgement and dismissal of his criticism of her linguistics.

"It's not even NEWT stuff though. It's past school level magic."

Draco sat up properly, watching as Pansy asked her questions while chewing on a green toffee apple in a distant fashion.

"Are you going anywhere in particular with this peculiar line of questioning, Pans?" Draco asked.

"Sort of." She said, taking another bite of the apple.

"Sort of?" Draco repeated.

"Well…" She began, but was cut off by Blaise's triumphant exclamation.

"I FOUND IT!" He strode into the lounge area, having re appeared from behind the pantry alcove holding his papers aloft, triumphantly in his hand.

"I found them. Me, yes I know. You can all thank me accordingly."

"What for, exactly?" Draco asked him, lightly.

"Well," he smiled warmly, and shrugged, as if he was admitting an embarrassing secret. "You know, for me, just being there. Being me. You don't have to say it, I just know. It's OK. I know."

He jumped onto the couch with Draco and proceeded to try to hug him.

"I know. I know" He whispered, sort of rocking back and forth, but Draco made that very difficult, as he struggled to escape the embrace, pushing his hand against Blaise's jaw and wriggling out of the seat.

"Get off me, you blast-ended idiot!"

Blaise grinned widely. "Well come on, môn Capitan's! Don't we have Potions in, like, three minutes? Pack up your satchels, we have to go."

Draco and Pansy picked up their bags and proceeded to the tapestry passageway hole, but they exchanged glances and turned their disapproving eyes to their bouncing friend.

"You're exceedingly chipper, Blaise." Draco said with narrowed eyes.

"Too chipper." Said Pansy darkly.

Blaise just laughed and opened the tapestry, nodding to the passageway.

All the Potions taking Slytherin's were huddled in the passage, giggling malevolently.

"Ha, what an idiot!" Theodore Nott snorted with glee. Daphne Greengrass next to him noticed the silver trio and waved them over.

"Neville Longbottom keeps pacing in the corridor. He's giving himself a pep talk before he goes to class, how pathetic is that?" She told them.

"Really?" Blaise queried.

"How long has he been at it for?" Draco asked curiously.

"It's coming close to 8 minutes now!" Theo laughed.

Draco stepped up to the double sided window in the secret passageway. It was enchanted to look like a portrait on the other side of the wall.

"Alley oop." Draco flicked his wand lazily and sent a trip jinx hurtling at Longbottom from where the Slytherins were behind the painting. It was without incantation, as Draco was advanced, even in his bullying.

Longbottom turned around in his pacing, and in the turn twisted his legs in an unusual position as he fell face first to the ground. The concealed Slytherins doubled over with laughter as the geeky Gryffindor scrambled to pick his books up and hurry to the potions lab.

"Oh, oh, that Schlongbottom." Blaise chortled.

"Hey, Draco," Theo smirked at him. "I guess this isn't the first time today you've put someone on their knees."

Draco rolled his eyes and Blaise, noting his irritation slapped Theo on the upside of his head.

"Ix-nay on the language-bay!" Blaise said in appalling pig Latin. Pansy thought so too.

"Have I ever told you how crap you are at pig Latin, blasé?" She said in a lowered voice.

"It was my subtle way of saying there are ladies present, Pan-sey." Blaise whispered back to her, his mock-serious expression was evident.

"You know what would be nice," Draco said aloud. The group were once again walking down the passageway. "If you guys could just have a moment's silence for the fallen Schlongbottom, so my headache could go away, because between you bickering, Schlongbottom's grandmother mourning, and Theo's dirty mind ticking away, I am headed straight for the infirmary. Really I am, and you wouldn't want that on your consciences would you?"

Pansy rolled her eyes. "You are so full of it, I mean, really Draco. I don't know how anyone could put up with you for as long as we have, and I certainly don't know who would have the patience to do you."

"So much for 'there are ladies present'." Blaise mumbled to himself.

"But Pansy, you are forgetting one crucial aspect." Draco said to her in a conversational tone.

She raised her eyebrow. "And that is?"

"I am, of course, devilishly handsome." Draco's serious expression was just an inch away from cracking, as the comedic tension built in the air.

"Oh, is that so?" She replied, keeping a straight face.

"And I have more sex appeal than a herd of Veela." Pansy's mouth twitched slightly, like she was trying to suppress a grin.

"Really?"

"And, I don't know if you know this, but – I am well versed in the art of wooing a woman."

"HAH!" She broke out laughing. "Ha, oh, I'm sorry Draco, but you said 'wooing' and that's just – that's just too – fucking – funny!"

"Not just women, if my sources are correct." Theo waggled his eyebrows.

"I'm stunned into silence, Theo. I never knew you felt that way about me." Draco's false embarrassment once again filled the passageway with the echoing laughter of the Slytherins. Trotting down the passageway, Blaise once again threw his arm around Draco's shoulder.

"Drakie, Drakie, eggs and bakie?" He wheedled.

"Urgh. What?"

"You know last night?"

"Yeeeesss?" Draco replied hesitantly.

"Well, I remember your Veela sex appeal first hand, and I gotta tell you, you can Veela me up any day."

Instantly Pansy cuffed Blaise around the head.

"Bad pun. No!"

"You can't even pun right? That's disgusting." Draco drawled, smirking at Blaise. He continued his sentence as he pulled up the tapestry that covered the passageway's exit.

"You know what Blaise, you are disgusting. Seriously. Don't ever speak to me. Ever."

Pansy laughed, and so did Theo and Daphne. Their vapid conversations were entirely satirical, but yielded more laughter than their normal ones did. Once they stopped laughing and surveyed their company in the corridor, it came as little surprise to see all the Gryffindors huddled together, staring at the Slytherins, speechless, possibly in lieu of some gossip.

"Oh look Draco. They're stunned into silence." Blaise smirked and leant on Draco's shoulder. His reference to Draco's earlier joke made Theo blush furiously, but Draco only grinned.

"An improvement if you ask me."

Pansy laughed, as from her position she could see both the Gryffindors faces, and Theo's deepening blush. She could also see that hideously simpering Brown girl attempt to throw Pansy a withering look, but Pansy could meet any challenge when it came to intimidation. Brown averted her gaze and Pansy laughed, victorious.

"I think they're scared of us."

The Gryffindors exchanged murderous glances and mumbled their brutish comebacks.

"As if." Muttered that obstinate ginger, Weasley.

"More like revolted." The angry welsh one growled.

"You want to be scared of my fist, Malfoy!" Another called out.

Draco sent careless looks to all the would-be Gryffindor attackers. If he was to be honest, those Gryffindors just wouldn't have the salt to actually attack him. They were all talk. He surveyed the crowd, noticing the fear that mixed with their anger, the curiosity and self loathing that they were curious about their enemy. Draco realised with a smirk that the majority of them had probably been fantasising about him, which explained the blushes that coloured their cheeks. His eyes passed finally, reluctantly, over the Golden Trio, all of whom were looking particularly chipper, excepting the ginger weasel who was cracking his knuckles ominously. Draco turned back to the group.

"Anyway, yeah, so, they're dreaming, uh, Quidditch this afternoon, yes?"

Blaise gave a weak chuckle.

"Is this a topic divergence from the 'and-the-crowd-goes-wild' seeker, is it?"

"No, it's a topic divergence from Theo's most recent crush on me topic." Draco replied coolly.

"Don't say that in public, Draco." Theo staged whispered. "I haven't told Daphne yet."

"And she doesn't want to know!" Daphne laughed.

The Slytherin group all heard the next comment from the Gryffindor dissidents closest to them, which was unfortunately the Golden Trio.

"Walking in here like they own the place." The ginger weasel sullenly grumbled.

Draco felt obliged to turn around. Insulting the weasel was one of Draco's favourite things to do, as he found the boy's utter lack of regard for his own pureblood status simply ludicrous.

"Well, some people do own things Weasley, not that you would know."

The ginger weasel flushed that incessant shade of red.

"You want to try shutting your mouth, Malfoy. Unless you want those pretty teeth of yours on the floor."

Ha, Draco thought to himself. This orgy rumour was really working well for him if completely arrogant imbeciles like Weasley took time to notice his perfectly straight, white teeth.

"I'm flattered Weasley, but you're really not my type." Blaise moved closer to Draco, smirking, as did Pansy in case the weasel got violent. "I don't date homeless people." Draco finished. His remark delivering the desired result, as the ginger weasel flushed with embarrassment.

"I have a home, alright!" He snapped. At this moment Potter stepped forward feeling the need to step in for his friend, and Draco could barely contain the eye roll he had. Of course Potter had to be the hero, the centre of attention. Draco wasn't talking to him, and in his mind he vindictively thought _'speak when you're spoken to'. _

"I was under the impression you didn't have a type, Malfoy. You're so desperate you can't afford to be picky. That explains why you've picked such first-rate characters for friends."

Draco was appalled. Potter couldn't insult his friends. That was another violation of the strict manners he was taught. _'Wizards in glass houses shouldn't throw stones.'_

"You are in no position to insult my friends Potter. You really can't talk, with that Mudblood and the hobo by your side."

"Firstly, don't call them that," Potter replied snippily. Draco was half expecting him to start clicking his fingers. "And secondly, you can go fuck yourself. Oh wait, you already have."

Draco sneered at Potter. Such an immature comment, and so presumptuous. But then again, Draco wasn't really sure what had gone on last night. His friends exchanged looks and turned a patronising gaze on The Boy Who Swore. They all were raised by the same manners system as Draco was, and such base language, even in such a base comeback, was dubious and intolerable.

"You don't know a thing, do you Potter?" Draco coolly replied. "You can be as childish as you want, it won't change the fact that you are just pissed off because you're alone." Draco smiled, as his point seemed to hit home. Hit his empty home, with his dead parents. Golden Boy's face turned sour. And although Draco disdained the use of poor language in proper conversation, he thought it might be the way to get back at Potter.

"Oh, and what are you then?"

Draco blinked. He hadn't been expecting an outward looking response, hoping that his dig at Potter's lack of relationships would dismiss him into silent introspection, during which Draco could talk about other more productive things.

"Pardon?" He silently berated himself for taking the bait, but Potter's assumption that Draco was hypocritical when talking about loneliness jarred him.

"What are you to call me alone? Are these rumours true, or are they a load of crap, like everything else you say?"

Oh, Draco realised sullenly that Potter had no poignant insights for him to consider on his life or lifestyle. He was just fishing for sex gossip, like everyone else. And to think Draco had hexed the last person who asked him directly.

"I haven't said anything, Potter. So these rumours you are referring to…"

Ah, but Draco could hear the approaching footsteps of his godfather's tapered shoes. He knew that if he would step back now, Snape would handle the situation and undoubtedly leave the Gryffindors worse for the wear points wise.

"There will be no rumour mongering in my corridor, students. The only talk shall be of the potion we will be studying today on page 307 of your text books called Persephone's elixir, and even talk of that shall be little. Get in here, quickly. Ten points from Gryffindor, for such aimless loitering."

Draco looked up with a smile, and Snape acknowledged him with a short glance before sweeping into the classroom.

The smile still playing across Draco's lips he couldn't help but add one final jab at Potter for his rudeness.

"Really Potter, gossip is so unattractive. It suits you well."

Sure it was childish, but judging from Potter's pre-pubescent insults earlier, it would have the desired effect. True enough, the moment Potter reached his desk he began attacking the nearest column with his head.

"I would be avoiding extra brain damage, if I were him." Blaise whispered to Draco, and Pansy chuckled.

"You will find, Potter, that self inflicted brain damage has the opposite effect on improving your NEWT grades. I suggest you sit up and cease your activities."

Blaise, Draco and Pansy all shrugged to one another and muttered "Great minds think alike." In unison.

"Simmer down, simmer down." Snape said indulgently from the front of the class. He turned to write the ingredients on the board, and Draco, Pansy and Blaise got out their Potions equipment.

"God, those catty Gryffindors." Pansy remarked. "They've really got the claws out today, if you know what I mean."

"Ok, you berated me for puns?" Blaise said, disbelieving.

"Alright you lot, both of you, drop the puns. Everyone knows sarcasm is the lowest form of wit." Draco smirked, signalling the beginning of their sarcasm game.

"Oh, is that right Draco?" Pansy smirked, as she put on the disbelieving tone of pure sarcasm.

"Yes, we should have realised we weren't being low enough for you." Blaise drawled.

"We know how Draco likes to get 'low'."

"Oh wow Pansy. A sexual comment. I wouldn't have thought you'd bring something like that up." Draco sarcastically replied.

"That's not the only thing she can bring up, if ya know what I mean." Blaise murmured implicitly.

"I thought we were off the puns." Draco noted.

"It's not a pun, it's an innuendo." Blaise corrected him.

Draco considered this. He was about to nod and reply about the dual nature of puns and innuendos, but it was one of those moments when everyone in a classroom becomes silent at once. Well, everyone but the Weasel, who was still yammering on about Snape's righteous punishment.

"Isn't Snape a right git though? The snakes were gossiping too. It's not fair that he only takes points from us!"

Draco, Pansy and Blaise all raised a dubious brow. The only gossip the Slytherins were mongering was idle gossip about Theo's preferences. They noticed Professor Snape had been slinking across the back of the room to collect the lacewing notes, and Pansy, Blaise and Draco turned around eagerly in their seats to watch the humour unfold.

"Life … Isn't … Fair, Weasley." Snape hit the insidious Weasley over the head with a rolled up potions text several times. "No gossiping in my class. Three points from Gryffindor. Lord knows you seem incapable of stopping yourself."

Draco laughed. His godfather's dry sense of humour livened up many a potions class. He shot a victorious grin at the Golden trio, who were looking thoroughly whipped. Scar, the Boy Wonder sent a venomous glare back at Draco, at which point Blaise and Pansy refocused their efforts on neutralising the threat, sending mental daggers to Potter's already misshapen face.

Scarboy narrowed his eyes, but looked away after a while.

"Oh, did you see the look he gave you?" Pansy gleefully remarked.

"His 'fail' look. We won that staring contest, evidently." Draco replied.

"I think that was his 'damn' look." Blaise said thoughtfully.

Draco and Pansy sent him a quizzical look.

"As in, 'Damn, that boy is fiiiine!'" Blaise finished.

"Ha!" Draco laughed. "Yeah, right. But who doesn't think that, really?" He said in mock thoughtfulness.

"And the crowd goes wild! Haaaaaah, Haaaaaah!" Blaise mimicked.

"I think Draco was better sexless. All this newfound bravado is wearing thin, fast." Pansy commented.

Blaise looked behind his shoulder.

"Hey, but he's still looking at you."

Draco frowned. It was unnerving to be stared at by Harry Potter. Even more unnerving was to consider the possibility that he was staring due to Blaise's 'Damn' Theory. And looking back, Draco recalled that Potter stared at him often. In the great hall, in lessons, at Quidditch (although that was probably due to the fact that Draco was a snitch magnet). All things considered, even disregarding the 'Damn' Theory, Potter had far too much interest in Draco than what was healthy for a Gryffindor to have for a Slytherin.

"Persephone's Elixir is a highly useful potion, and it will likely come up in your NEWTS, so it is pertinent that you pay attention." Snape reminded the class. Draco focussed to the front once again and shook off that little bout of insecurity. Potter could stare at him all he liked. Draco didn't care. The reason for it was probably just that Scarhead was jealous that someone else was in the limelight for the time being. He was 85% sure of it. Draco copied down the method again in his book, as he had already gone through it in the text book before term began.

He didn't care about Potter.

And, he realised with a satisfied smile, it was quite possible that no one did.

**I told you it was long. And very Slytheriny. The viewpoints and opinions expressed in this chapter do not represent the viewpoints of the author, I was trying to set the mood. I know Harry has folks that care about him, but I am sewing the seeds of denial and misunderstanding. If Draco thinks Potter thinks of him, he is likely to think of Potter as the result of this, and boom. Misunderstanding. A happy little cocktail of misunderstanding and denial. I know it's a bit slow getting to the slash here, but rest assured, slash is on it's way. It's somewhere is Wales, on the Knight Bus, but it's on it's way. Review if you like it, aaaand tell me what you liked. **

**REVIEW! **

**Have a nice day now. **


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